


Skin

by GaleCrowley



Category: Original Work
Genre: Erotica, F/F, F/M, Fetish, Hypnotism, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleCrowley/pseuds/GaleCrowley
Summary: Rita's been working with her under appreciative, slightly too forward boss on a project for the military for awhile. But when an accident happens in the lab, she'll decide she has better things to do than try to please men who dismiss her - namely, pleasing herself instead.





	Skin

In an underground lab lit only by the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, people stirred, events were brewing, and science was happening. The kind of people, kind of events, and kind of science that would change the world … if they could just get the damn thing working. If they could be sure, absolutely sure, that nothing could go wrong, then, and only then, could they take their findings to their superiors, get their names into the history books … and stop having to deal with that hard-nose former general with a cork up his ass.

The project leader counted them off.

“Camo testing in three … two … one!”

At his cue, the other scientists pressed buttons, pulled levers, and turned dials. The brightness in the room was turned up, filling it with warm light of every kind - ultraviolet, infrared, name it, it was there.

A particular button push activated the subject of their testing.

Held high inside a glass container, a bodysuit was stretched across a mannequin in the rough shape of a fit man. Its neutral face made on reaction to the various waves of light bombarding his private room.

The suit, however, reacted differently, with streaks of color and rings of lights causing lens flares that wouldn’t be out of place in a trailer for a J.J Abrams movie. It was a cornucopia of colors, a reflective canvass like a mirror, reacting in different ways to the various lights, with some reactions more subtle than others.

Too bad for the scientists, none of them were the reactions that they wanted out of the suit.

“Damn,” the lead scientist swore. “It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“No, no, it does not,” one of his aides, a blonde woman, said.

“Maybe we should just give it a minute?” the other aid suggested with a tint of optimism.

The lead - Crum his was name - shook his head. “No,” Crum said. “No, it’s not happening, Rita. Cut it. Turn it off.”

WIth mounting disappointment and sadness, she did so, pulling the lever down and turning the lights back into normal, human-friendly levels of exposure.

“Damn it.” Crum swatted a stack of papers, sending them flying off his desk and floating into the air. “What went wrong? _What went wrong_?” He paced back and forth, barking his interrogations at the air. “It should’ve have worked perfectly … it should’ve worked perfectly this time! The simulations! The predictions, the prototypes! … did they lie to us? Did-did the computer lie to us, you think, girls?”

“I don’t think so,” the first aid, Greta, answered. “We probably just overlooked something when we ran the program. You know what they say - garbage in, garbage out.”

“You think we were putting in garbage?” Crum asked, despondent.

“That’s not what I …” Greta shook her head. “Never mind. You have to remember, Crum, this is science we’re doing. Real science, not the stuff in the movies, where they flip a switch and everything works. It’s long. It’s painful. It’s boring, and you have to try a thousand times before you get to a thousand and one times and get the result you were looking for … and at the end of it all, is that the government gives you get a few hundred extra dollars in your next grant application.” Greta rolled her eyes.

“I suppose you’re right,” Crum admitted. “Speaking of the government, let’s go and give General Hardnose his update …”

General Hardnose wasn’t his name, of course. His name was Agent Dowell, but he was basically more like a general to them, and he was a hard-nosed, hard-hearted, hardass, who was hard to get along with.

“You coming, Rita?” Crum asked as he and Greta ascended up the stairs.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” Rita answered. “I’m gonna try and figure out what went wrong …” she looked at the suit with an amorous eye.

Crum scoffed. “Don’t bother. You’ll never get it working by yourself. Come on. Let’s tell Dowell what the results were, and then we can all get some rest before we try again. Maybe go down to Pablo’s and get some Italian, huh?”

“Yeah … sure,” Rita answered, uncertain. She didn’t like when Crum offered to buy her lunch. He’d done it a few too many times for it to be just because of professional courtesy, and she was suspecting he had an interest in her - which would be unfortunate, as she had no interest in him, and he was her boss.

With a last look towards the suit like a loving woman worried her spouse was going through a hard time without telling her what was upsetting him, Rita gave the suit one last glance before heading up the stairs with the others, one sole question burning through in her, all consuming in the blaze of her obsessive single mindedness.

_Why didn’t it work? It should’ve worked …_

 

Rita’s mind remained elsewhere as she paced up the stairs to Cowell’s suite. While Crum got on the phone and told Cowell that they had a report for him as soon as he was available to hear it (which was quite soon, actually), Rita’s mind was firmly, stubbornly stuck on the failures of their test, ruminating on what went wrong, what failed to connect - what one, single point of failure they had overlooked.

She didn’t say anything the entire time on their way to Cowell’s room. Nothing during the ride as they went to meet him in a hotel, where they could gather together and remain inconspicuous. Nothing, in spite of Greta’s occasional attempts to break through to her and get her mind to think about something other than work for a few minutes.

“Come on, Rita,” Greta said, poking Rita’s shoulder. “It’s not good for you to think about work this much. Think about something positive! You know, it’s good to learn from your failures, but I heard on the radio that it’s bad for your health to think about them too much.”

Rita responded with a grunt, just to let Greta know she heard her and wasn’t going deaf. Greta sighed airily, disappointed at the lack of conversation.

They arrived the hotel and went straight up to Cowell’s room, already knowing the room number.

People got up to shady business all the time in hotels. The owners wouldn’t blink twice at Cowell having frequent visitors still dressed in their lab coats. The hotel probably would care a bit more if they knew he had had disabled the clock, unplugged the tv, and cut the phone to keep anyone from spying on him during his meetings. It wouldn’t do to have spies and black marketers get ahold of secret government contracts like this one, after all, to turn and sell it to the highest bidder - or worse, leak it to the internet.

“Damn millennials,” Crum heard Cowell mutter more than once. “Think they just put everything out there … don’t know the importance of state secrets?”

Crum wasn’t equipped to answer that question, being of a similar generation and having no children of his own.

“I hear you have a report for me,” Cowell said with a smirk. Not just any smirk, but a particular kind of “yeah, I’ve seen hell on the battlefield, I can take anything you throw at me now, life” smirk that comes only from witnessing warfare first hand. “Good news, I hope?”

“No, not really,” Crum admitted, and Cowell’s smirk dimmed. “Not news, or a report … more like an update, really. Today, we ran the first test of the full-size prototype.”

“And?” Cowell asked, the eagerness to get the bad news over with apparent in his voice.

“It didn’t so great.”

“It didn’t so great in the, ‘it didn’t do what we wanted it to’ sense, or in the “everything in the lab caught fire, and it came to life and escaped a la Mary Shelley’ sense?”

Crum blinked, needing a moment to process Cowell’s eclectic choice of figurative language. “The - the first one.”

“Ah,” Cowell nodded, with a kind of fatherly disappointment. He turned away from Crum and paced.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think I should need to tell you the kind of good this project will for Uncle Sam - and for mankind. Imagine the problems we could solve, the trouble we could stop before it starts, if we had a true-blue invisible suit, with invisible, adaptive camouflage …” Cowell took a deep breath as if he just puffed a smoke.

“Imagine,” Cowell waved a hand, “a dictatorship is rising in a small third-world country … but instead of being allowed to gather power and consolidate his reign, one agent - one, single, highly trained U.S agent - is able to strap that suit of yours - your chameleon suit- and is able to go in, and take him without any civilian casualties. No muss, no fuss, no cleanup required, and we can start putting democracy into place. As it should be.” The agent smirked, self-sure of democracy as the natural state of the world, despite only existing for around 400 or 500 years or so. “Or better yet, a mission has gone horribly wrong and our men about to be gunned down an old salvage junker of a plane from World War II, only for them to disappear right under the enemy's radar, slip away, and live to fight another day, and come home to their wives and children.”

Cowell turned, resting his hands on the nightstand.

“Gentlemen,” Cowell said, before correcting himself, “Gentleman and ladies, I don’t think I can impress you the importance of this suit anymore than I already have. You get that suit working, you make us win wars, and there’ll be medals - and grant money - in it for all of you.”

“Yes sir,” Crum said, smiling and nodding. “We’ll … try not to let you down.”

Cowell clapped Crum on the shoulder. “For God and country, professor.”

“For God and country,” Crum repeated back, more out of professional politeness than any actual shared faith in Cowell’s beliefs.

“I’ve got it!” Rita blurted out, abrupt to the point of startling everyone, with Crum almost jumping out of his skin, and Cowell’s reflexes kicking in and instinctively going for his gun - thankfully, he wasn’t packing, so there was no risk of an accident.

Greta and Crum grimaced as they realized how much pressure Rita just invited Cowell to apply.

“Well, Professor Rita,” Cowell said with a grin, “whatever it is … you better make sure it’s got.”

Rita chuckled. “My apologies for my … lack of professionalism.”

“All is forgiven,” Cowell waved his hands in a jolly manner.

 

Sometime later, Rita’s coworkers let her know of their upset with her outburst.

“I can’t believe you would just say that out loud in front of Cowell, Rita,” Greta complained. “What if you don’t got it? What if your idea fails?”

“But I know how to fix it,” Rita protested.  
“I’m not saying you don’t, but if - if you don’t, what are we gonna tell Cowell? That we experimented and failed again?” Greta asked. “We’re SCIENTISTS, for crying out loud! We live in a constant state of ‘If!’”

“We could just not tell him,” Rita suggested.

“And have him get suspicious we’re not actually making progress, and just using the funds for our own projects?” Crum suggested. “No thanks. No, we’ll keep updating. And we’re going to keep experimenting, and keep tinkering, until we figure out how to make this damn suit work. Right?”

“Right,” Rita and Greta agreed.  
“And … we’re going to do it without any more … _outbursts_ that might provide our _generous benefactors_ in the Army with  … _unrealistic_ expectations, right?” Crum growled, leaning over RIta with an aura of menace surrounding him.

“Right,” Rita agreed quietly.

“Great!” Crum smiled, doing a complete 180 degree turn and becoming a beacon of sunshine and friendliness. “Is anybody else hungry? I’ll grab us some burgers on our way home.”

“Didn’t you want to go to Pablo’s?” Greta asked.

“Ah, they’ll be closed by now,” Crum lamented. “Besides, maybe Rita will be nice to let her stay at her place for awhile. We can relax, unwind … maybe tell a few jokes to lighten ourselves after a long day.”

“Ha ha, no thanks,” Rita said. “I, um, value my private time. In fact, I had a long date with a book planned tonight.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you postpone,” Crum said charmingly.

“How do you know it’s a he? Maybe it’s a her,” Greta said. “Ooh, maybe it’s even a non-binary book! Wouldn’t that be special.”

“Sure,” Crum said, rolling his eyes. “Special … damn political correctness,” he added under his breath.

Rita was thankful her deflection worked. She and Crum got along well enough, sure, but she did not want Crum to be inside her house, looking around … making note of the exits so he could block them with his body while he came on to her, making raunchy jokes.

She nonetheless followed Greta back into the car, though she insisted on dropping off first so she didn’t have to be alone with him.

“What’s the rush?” Greta asked her.

“I just really want to get into the book, that’s all,” Rita coolly answered.

 

Crum dropped Rita off at her house. As she stepped out of the car, he spoke up.

“Rita?” Crum said. “I’m going to call Cowell in the morning. Run some damage control. Tell him we probably won’t have the suit working for a little while.”

“But I know what’s wrong,” Rita insisted. “I can fix it.”

“Can you?” Crum asked. “Pray tell, Rita - what is wrong?”

At this, Rita became quiet, adopting a shy posture where her shoulders sagged. “I … want to run a few tests before committing to that.”

And quite honestly, Rita didn’t trust him not to apply her proposed solution himself and steal all the credit if she did tell him.

“Rita, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve been doing science a lot longer than you,” Crum said.

 _Only a few years,_ Rita thought resentfully. _Not that much longer than me at all._

“And I can’t think of anything we could do to fix the suit to make run they we want it to as it is now. I doubt anything you come up will work either.”

“Mm,” Rita grunted noncommittally as an answer.

“Hey, you know …” Crum said. “You’ve been doing good work at the lab. Maybe your mouth is writing checks your brain can’t cash, but you have done pretty good work. If you like, I’ll take you for dinner one weekend. Pablo’s, all on me.” Crum smirked in a detestable which seemed to invite punching. “Think about it.”

“Sure,” Rita said. Not, she added in her head.

“I’m going to head inside,” Rita said. “I’ll run some scale tests on desk to see - or I should say, to prove my fix will work.”

“Goodness, Rita,” Greta said, “you have to think about something other than work sometime.”

“Perhaps,” Rita admitted, “but ‘sometime’ is a few hours away. Excuse me.”

Rita went inside her house.

Crum huffed as he pulled out of Rita’s driveway.

“Well, you can’t ignore her work ethic,” Greta said, attempting to lighten the mood. When Crum didn’t respond, she looked at the floorboards.

“Hey,” Greta turned to Crum, “some of the things you said to Rita just now … some of them were a little mean.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re kind of … undermining her, in a way. She’s not that much less experienced than you, you know. She did get her Ph.d by experimenting with newtonian fluids.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“I’m just saying,” Greta said. “Try … to be nicer to her. Think about what you say, I guess? Who knows? You never know what could happen. You keep on like that, you might drive her to quit, or worse!”

“... worse, like?”

“Work for another lab, maybe? I’d be sad to see her go,” Greta gave a concerned look backwards at Rita’s house in the mirror.

“I will take your words under advisement,” Crum said, which Greta knew to be code for “I’m going to promptly forget this conversation.”

Greta said. Crum was smart, but he was trying to work with at times. She wondered how much more trying Rita could take.

 

Rita entered into her house with a flourish, twirling around in joy at no longer have to be around Crum.

“That nasty mean old Crum doesn’t think I can do it,” Rita said, using baby talk as she pressed her nose to the glass case where her pet chameleon lay on his branch. “But old Rita’s got a trick or two up her sleeve, doesn’t she, Jackie? ‘Oh, yes, she sure does!’” she mimed Jackie saying as she poured reptile food into his terrarium.

After feeding her pet, Rita ran up to her desk. She pulled materials out of the drawers and laid them on the desk, rubbing her hands eagerly as she prepared to get to work. She noticed some cards Crum had given her in the past - invitations to go out, a few Valentines Day cards, letting her know that Crum was going to be at a party, and she was welcome to join him as a plus one if she wanted.

Rita swatted the cards away to clear up her work space, the cards falling into the floor in a disorganized mess.

“I can make it work, Jackie,” Rita said as she applied a drop of solution to a strand of microfiber. “I know I can …”

After around three hours of small scale testing, toying, tinkerin with solutions, with fibers and various materials that they had used, or at one point considered using to make the suit, as well as a review of color theory and how the human eye perceives the light spectrum, Rita made an proclamation.

“Ah ha! I think I’ve got it!” Rita raised her arms to the sky, lifting up her materials in triumph.

She looked down at her results.

“I can’t wait to test this out tomorrow morning … then they’ll see. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got this,” Rita mumbled, then brushed her hand over her thigh, feeling the keys she kept in her pocket.

She pulled the keys out and observed them. A key to the lab was among the ones on her ring. This produced a devious thought in her mind.

“On second thought, why wait?” She was about to head for her car, when on her way to the door, she passed by Jackie’s terrarium.

“Oh shoot, that’s right,” Rita said, approaching the glass. “You probably shouldn’t be left alone for another eight hours without me, huh?”

Rita tapped her chin.

Getting an idea, Rita stuffed a can of pet food into her lab coat, then lifted the terrarium up. She carried it out to her car, loading it into the back seat.

Normally, she wouldn’t do something like this, but something was driving her today. She was determined to prove Crum wrong - prove that she could be in every his equal, if not his better, and that her science could in fact keep the checks she wrote. And maybe even get a grant or two from Cowell for another project that would let her get away from Crum’s musty old lab, wouldn’t that be something ...

After securing Jackie’s terrarium with a seat belt, Rita started up the car and drove to the lab. After unlocking the door, she took Jacke inside with her, setting the terrarium down by the stairs where out of the way where it wouldn’t get hurt, and then got to work.

 

The next day, Crum and Greta arrived at the lab, discussing what they were going to do to progress on the suit. They were stunned to see Rita’s car already parked there.

They rushed inside.

“Rita?” Greta called as she opened the lab doors. “Rita! Are you there?”

“Oh, hi, Greta!” Rita turned away from the table and waved at Greta. Her eyes were bloodshot and baggy, her face pale with sleep deprivation. “Good to see you, good to see you … hey, while you’re over there, would you mind feeding Jackie? She hasn’t had breakfast.”

“Jackie …? You …” Greta blinked. “You brought your pet iguana to work?”

“Chameleon,” Rita corrected. “Anyway, I’m about to make the suit work.”

“You’re what?” Crum gasped in disbelief.

“Sorry, I should’ve said I’m about to run the test that I’m sure will make the suit work,” Rita corrected, pulling down her protective glasses.

She went over to the control panel and pulled down on the corresponding levers, heedless of the fact that Greta and Crum didn’t have their protective equipment on.

Greta and Crum shielded their eyes as powerful lights bathed the lab and blasted the suit. As the lights shined and the electronics hummed, Rita’s confident expression faded.

“What?” Rita almost took her glasses off in disbelief, before remembering that would be extremely unhealthy for her eyes.

She could still see the suit on the mannequin. She could still see it.

“No … no! That’s not right. That’s … not possible. It should’ve worked. It should’ve worked this time!” She was almost on the verge on tears. She had been so confident in her solution. She was certain!

“That’s … it’s … arg!”

While Rita despaired and muttered, Greta felt her way through the lab. It wasn’t easy while using her arm as a shield, but she managed, getting by Rita and pulling down the levers, deactivating the lights.

“It should’ve … it should’ve …” Rita repeated like a broken record.

“Hey …” Greta took Rita’s shoulder, patting her on the back. “It’s okay. Sometimes things just … don’t work out. I’m sure it was a good try. We’ll keep working on it. We’ll figure it out.”

“I told you you couldn’t come up with anything I couldn’t myself!” Crum complained.

“Not the time to lord your experience over us,” Greta snapped through gritted teeth. She turned back to Rita, her voice as sweet as could be.

“You’ve been working awful hard, I can tell. You must’ve stayed up all night to work on this.” She touched a finger to the corner of Rita’s eyes. “Come on. Let Crum and I get you some coffee, maybe some donuts, too, with sprinkles.”

Rita made no reply, though she did stop repeating herself.

Greta patted her on the back again, then went up the stairs.

“Let’s give her some time,” Greta suggested.

“Coulda told you it wasn’t going to work,” Crum said, “but did you listen? No!”

“Hey,” Greta grabbed him by the shirt. “She just had a pretty big setback. She was confident, and it blew in her face. Maybe give her some time to process before you start harping on her.”

Crum grunted, but followed Greta out.

Rita, after a long silence, slid her hands off the controls.

“I still don’t understand,” Rita took the glasses off. “It should’ve worked this time. It should’ve - my calculations were perfect! The lighting calibration …!”

Rita wandered aimlessly around the room, pacing in circles. After a bit, she remembered Jackie.

While going over to feed her, Rita caught Jackie right as she was in the middle of changing color, going from her green to dark brown.

This made her jaw drop. She ran up to the terrarium, pressing her face against the glass and startling Jackie.

“That’s it,” Rita said. “That’s it! I’ve got it! Well and truly got it now! I’ve been going about this all wrong the whole time! It’s not the light - it’s the fibers! It needs to be in the fibers! Yes! Oh, Jackie, if you were human, I would kiss you!”

Rita clapped.

Then she paused.

“Oh, yeah, I should probably still feed you …”

After doing just that, Rita went back up to the suit.

“We’ve been trying to make it immune to light,” Rita mused. “What we should be doing is making react to light - like a chameleon. A chameleon doesn’t block out all light - it reflects light so that its colors match its surroundings. That’s where we went wrong - we’re trying to make something perfect, when all we have to do is make it take advantage of what’s already there!”

Giggling madly to herself, Rita went up to the suit’s code and altered it accordingly, rewriting the programming to execute the new program exactly to her specifications.

After this, she pulled down the lever to activate the suit. She didn’t bother turning on the lights - if this worked, they would be irrelevant.

Rita’s heart was filled with joy at the first sign of it working. The suit, slowly, ever so slowly, began to disappear against the mannequin, turning pale and transparent, just like when a chameleon changes from one pigment to another.

“Yes! Yes!” Rita threw her hands into the air. “It works!” She jumped for joy, but she lost her balance on her way down, hitting the keyboard and kludging up the code.

“No! Crap!” Rita spun around, getting onto her stomach.

Before she could fix the code, she was distracted by the new colors the suit it took.

It changed from transparent to black, with a grayish-white spiraling line running through it. The line swirled and spun around, forming a loop in repeated motions, going outwards like a ripple in a pond, refreshing itself each time, beginning a new loop right as the one before it reached the edge of the suit’s lines and disappeared.

“That’s … interesting,” Rita observed, taking her hand away from the computer input.

Sliding her hand away, Rita walked up to the suit to examine the pattern more closely.

“Very interesting,” Rita observed, cupping her chin. “You know, Jackie, I didn’t think I could make a modern art project out of this.” She chuckled at her own joke.

“Still ..” Rita walked around the suit, the mannequin as passive and motionless as ever. “It seems like there’s something you could do with this. Maybe … code signals? Use flashes of light to communicate in morse, pass along encrypted messages? Use human bodies as letters carrying information?”

Rita tilted her head.

“I can’t deny it’s interesting. Hypnotic … almost.”

Rita raised her hand, touching it to the glass.

“Mesmerizing … oh.”

Rita felt tired. She leaned in, bumping her forehead on the glass. Her eyelids were heavy, but she didn’t want to stop staring at the patterns. At the pretty, pretty swirls, calling her. Beckoning her. Inviting her in, to be consumed in the spirals and get lost in the pattern, infinitely repeating itself with no end in sight. It was maddening to look upon it, to see it and see how it would never, ever end … unless acted on by an outside force.

 _I need to … stop staring at it,_ Rita thought. _This can’t be healthy._

She tried to push herself away, but her arms wouldn’t produce the force she needed. It was like her hands were glued to the glass.

_I can’t get away …_

Rita noticed she couldn’t speak either. She couldn’t get her mouth to open and call for help.

_I can’t speak … I’m …_

Rita’s head drifted down, but it snapped right back when eyes she was about to let the pretty, pretty spirals out of sight, and they couldn’t abide that.

 _I’m so sleepy …_ Rita thought, as she sank to her knees. Her eyelids fluttered, but didn’t close. _I can’t escape … I can’t speak … I’m … I’m trapped. I’m … too weak._

And she _liked_ feeling too weak.

At least, if the way her nipples stiffened was anything to go by.

 _What? No,_ Rita thought. _You stop that right now._

But her nipples didn’t stop. They perked all the way up, pressing against the inside of her shirt. They got so sensitive, too. It was like she could feel every thread of cloth her shirt rubbing against her..

 _Why am I … why am I so turned on?_ Rita thought. She took her hand off her breast and began tracing the patterns of the spirals with a finger, drawing it across the glass.

Her hand, almost involuntarily, moved toward her breast and began rubbing at her nipples. Pinching it. Poking. Running a finger over it, experimenting to see what got the best reaction.

 _Do I …_ Rita wondered as her other hand went down to her crotch. _Do I have a hypnosis fetish?_

Whether she did or didn’t, one thing was clear to Rita; she was hypnotized, trapped, enraptured by the suit’s patterns, and she was turned on to the point she knew she wasn’t going to get out of here … unless she came.

_I … no, I don’t want to do this. But I- kinda do? I’m so confused …_

Rita’s hand moved, pulling her pants away. Then it dealt with her panties. Once her vagina was exposed, it plunged in, sticking one finger at first, then a second, and a third as it confirmed that Rita could handle it. The fingers moved in and out, rubbing up and down like a painter mixing colors with their bare fingers.

Rita bobbed, her body vibrating against the glass case. Her legs twitched as her vagina continued to contract.

A bit of fluid leaked out, getting on her fingers.

 _No … no!_ Rita screamed to herself. All the while her fingers began going faster and faster, her body rocking like a chair. She jostled so much she moved a little to the side, though her eyes kept focused on the spirals.

She soon changed her mind.

 _Yes!_ “YES! Ooh …” Rita got her voice back, screaming in relief as her vagina gave a squirt of cum, spraying it all over the floor and glass as her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth.

“Oh …” Rita fell backwards, sprawling out on the floor, lying there with her arms stretched out and her legs at awkward bent positions.

Her vagina let out another squirt, shooting her cum into the air like a fountain. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling, the sensation of the relief of pressure, and the squirting … oh, the squirting felt fantastic.

But soon her vagina dried up, and she drifted off to sleep. She dreamt of those spirals. She longed for those spirals. She was so turned on by the sight of them,  by the permanent association in her memory now between those spirals and her sexual pleasure, that every now and again, even in her sleep, her clit would let out another little spray, another fleck of cum.

 

“Don't you think she's taking an awful while in there?” Crum asked.

“I'm sure she's still thinking about how she's going to fix the suit, save the day, and earn her redemption - at least in her own eyes,”  Greta said.

“Here, I'll go get us some coffee. Go ask her to come up, will you?”

Greta left, leaving Crum to sulk.

“Ask her to come up… yeah, I'll ask her to come up alright.” Crum grumbled and got to his feet.

When he got to the door, Crum was more annoyed than anything to find it locked.

"What is that tart thinking?" Crum unlocked the door, not thinking about how bad this could really be if Rita was locking then out.

"Rita!" Crum called as he descended the stairs. "Rita, come on out! Greta's going to get donuts, and..."

Crum sighed.

"Listen, Rita, I'll be honest with you, I'm really upset with you for slowing this project down by thinking you could do it yourself. Managing Cowells expectations, running damage control... Trying to keep the project on task."

Crum shook his head. " Women. Give them an inch, they'll take a mile. Listen, Greta, I didn't mind that you didn't listen to me when I tried to warn you it wasn't going to work. actually, I think I do mind, or I wouldn't be  bringing it up. You should have respected my experience."

"Your experience? Don't make me laugh, " Rita answered from the darkness, her  voice unusually high and cruel sounding. "You were ready to dismiss my idea without even knowing what it was. Because I'm a woman. You're the man, the authority on any and all subjects. But it's not really about that, even, is it? No. You're mad about something else."

"Yes," Crum admitted sourly, feeling around for the light switch. Why ks it so dark in here? "I'm... Mad you won't go out with me."

"But of course! Why I shouldn't I go out with you? You're my boss! The big strong boss! I already give you my time and effort at work - why not outside of work as well? How dare I not make you the object of all my affections!"

"Well... Yeah," Crum said, not catching the sarcasm or the resentment in Rita's voice.

"Oh, don't bother turning the light on."

Crum was bathed in the spiraling, swirling light from the suit, the same one that entranced Rita earlier. It was brighter now, too.

"It won't save you."

Crum couldn't believe what he saw. Standing before him was nothing but a swirling outline of blue spirals going outward and onwards, wrapped around a Human shaped figure in the darkness.

"Y... You got the suit to work?"

"You're damn right I got the suit to work. And I did it without your experience.  Now, just relax, and cum."

“What?”

“Why not? It worked for me,” Rita said, while the waves of light continued to bath the laboratory.

“Rita, what is … wrong with you?” Crum asked, staggering towards her. He fell to his knees, overcome with a sense of weakness.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Rita said. “I just realized my place on the pecking order. The things holding me back from being as great as I could be. Little things like my lack of confidence … and you, with you’re always asking me to go out. Your ‘oh, I have expeeerience!’ and ‘don’t listen to Rita!’ Well, today, that changes. I’m reorganizing the pecking order, with me on top. Now cum!”

“Absolutely …” Crum mumbled. He meant to say absolutely not, but those pretty, pretty swirls overwhelmed him.

He sank to his knees, undoing his belt and letting his member hang out. With a dazed look on his face, he began stroking himself.

“That’s it, Crum,” Rita said. “Stroke. I’m sure you must be very good at stroking. You do it with your ego all the time.”

“Can’t believe … you ...  bi-i … this could … feel so good.”

“Yes. Doesn’t it feel so good to submit, Crum? To give in? To cum and let your mistress control your thoughts?”

“Let mistress control my thoughts.”

“Yes, that’s right. You don’t have any thoughts.”

“I have no thoughts …”

“You’re a good boy.”

“I’m a … good boy,” Crum panted out. The entire time, he hadn’t stopped stroking himself, and now he let himself go. His cock stiffened up, then sputtered out cum, spilling the sticky ooze all over the laboratory tile. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell backwards, his stiff cock still pointing up in the air, occasionally letting out an extra dribble of cum.

“Hmm,” Rita thought, “you know, i was expecting there to be more to it. I’ve been watching too much porn …”

Rita snapped at the sound of the doors to the lab moving.

“Hi guys!” Greta greeted them, carrying a bag in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. “I got coffee. Did you two managed to figure out to get along since I’ve … been … gone.” Greta blinked, taking in the scene.

Rita was nothing more than an outline of blue spirals on an translucent frame. Crum was lying on his back, his dick out and spurting cum, clearly having just had the ride of his life.

“What … is going on here?” Greta asked, just barely holding onto the bag.

“Come in, come in, Greta,” Rita beckoned, waving her arm. “Join the fun.”

“I …” Greta wanted to say no, but the spirals were already taking her. She took her first step down the stairs.

“Join us,” Rita repeated.

“Yes,” Greta answered blissfully, her eyelids getting heavy. “Join you …”

“No!” Crum scrambled to his feet, nursing at his balls. He rushed up the stairs, though limping, up the stairs and slapped his hand over Greta’s eyes.

“Uh?” Greta groaned, confused.

“Greta, Rita has gone insane,” Crum hissed. “She managed to get the suit working, and now she’s … I don’t even know what’s she doing. She’s perving out. We need to get out of here.”

Crum hobbled along, dragging Greta with him outside of the lab.

As Greta’s mind slowly returned to normal, she began to feel awkward about being rescued by someone with no pants on.

“Uh …”

“You can comment on that later,” Crum said. “RIght now we need to focus on-”

Crum was interrupted by a trip, falling face first into the floor. He screamed in pain, as his cock lacked any of the usual protections of pants or boxers from the cold hard floor.

Greta was dragged backwards, an invisible Rita grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back towards the limb.

“Rita,” Greta said, but Rita waved a partially visible hand in front of her face, with hypnotic spirals embedded in the palm. Greta went silent and relaxed, letting Rita drag her off.

Crum got to his feet, shuffling on his knees. The pain in his groin kept from getting all the way up, but it was enough.

Crum grabbed a tray of spare tools from a table, and tossed it at Rita. He hit Greta instead, but the blow was enough to make them both stagger and get Rita’s hand away from Greta’s face.

Greta laid still on the floor, her mind a mess.

Crum pulled himself up, using the table the tray was set on. The pain began to subside, but it reemerged when Rita wrapped her hand around his tool and squeezed, making him squirt. Rita pulled her hand away before any of it could drip onto her and ruin her camouflage.

“Rita!” Crum shrieked in alarm. He swiped vainly at the air, hoping to get lucky and hit her, but his hand never connected.

The next thing Crum knew, he was hearing the front door click. A sense of dread overcame him. “Oh no.”

Crum almost didn’t want to look, but he had to.

Rita had blocked the exit, stuffing a chair under the doorknob, a scalpel into the hinges, and a variety of other tools in such in other barricades, including pliers around the window locks.

“Rita, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can’t do this,” Crum said, heading for the door.

“Oh,” Rita replied, Crum smacking right into her and bouncing off the camo suit’s reinforced leather. “I rather think I can.”

The whole room filled with the blue spiral lights, and Crum’s eyes twitched. He tried to close them, but couldn’t.

“For so long, so long!” Rita shouted, strutting towards Crum with a sway of her hips, “I let you be the boss of me, yell at me, come at me … not anymore. You and Cowell … it’s my turn to be the boss now. You’re both going to obey me, and listen to what I have to say instead. You and everyone else who’s ever doubted me. You hear me, you two? Obey. Obey. _Obey_.”

“O---o … no … o-bey,” Crum stammered out.

“Go on, Crum. Stroke yourself. You know you want to. After all, you’re always coming on to me! You must be so horny. So go ahead. Cum on me.”

“Stroke …. Want to,” Crum repeated, his hands going right to his tool again, moving rapidly up and down.

“So resistant,” Rita noted, cupping Crum’s chin. “Why don’t you be more like Greta? She has the right idea.”

Greta was lying on her back. She had almost risen to her feet when the hypnosis caught her, and she was staring numbly at Rita.

“Greta, dear?” Rita asked. “Could you be a darling and … finger yourself until you cum?”

“Yes,” Greta answered breathlessly, sticking a finger down her pants.

“Use two,” Rita instructed. “Heck, use three, if they’ll fit.”

Greta nodded, uncurling her other fingers and sticking them inside herself. She began to moan quickly. She tried to close her eyes, but the lids wouldn’t go.

“No … got to … stop this …” Crum muttered, even while he continued pumping. “Got to …  
“Obey,” Rita finished for him.

“Got to …”

“Cum.”

“Cum, yes, cum,” Crum said.

“Both of you, cum. Cum, for your mistress Rita,” Rita said. “Your mistress demands it. And when you cum, you’re going to swear your loyalty to me. You’re going to always obey me, even when I’m not wearing the suit. And in the future, you’ll be so in love with me, so turned on by me, that you’ll cum on que when I tell you to, and you’ll fall in love with me even more. And after you cum right now, you’re going to forget that I hypnotized you, but not my instructions.”

“Yes!” Greta screamed, her stroking motions at a fever pitch. Her thighs rocked, and her eyes captured the spirals perfectly in the reflection of her irises. “Cum for Mistress Rita!”

“Yes, cum, cum!” Crum repeated, slowing down his stroking noticeably. He panted and groaned as his cock began spurting once more, leaving a puddle of spooge on the floor.

“Rita!” Greta screamed in ecstasy, cumming furiously, dark spots appearing all over her pants. “I love … you … I love … to cum … for …”

Greta and Crum blinked. Rita deactivated the spirals, then quickly reprogrammed the suit to appear as normal clothes.

“Rita?” Greta asked, blinking. “What are we … doing?” She raised her hand to touch her head, then was alarmed when her sticky fingers touched her hair. “Huh?”

“Why am I not wearing any pants?” Crum asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Rita told him, touching his chin again like he was her darling. “Right now, we need to get cleaned up and go see Cowell.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s deranged,” Rita lied, “he’s not actually part of the military - he was discharged two years ago, and didn’t get the memo. He barged in, took the suit before it was ready, and went out, and now we need to go stop him.”

“Right,” Crum said. Then he noticed the tools stuck in the door and window. “Uh, did he do that?”

“Yes, he did,” Rita said quickly, rolling with the lie as easy as a boulder down a hill.

“Did he?” Crum said. “That doesn’t sound right … I coulda sworn ...”

“Shh, shh,” Rita bade him, waving a hypnosis-lined hand in front of his face quickly, too briefly for him to notice what was going on. He went right back to being content. “You mustn’t concern yourself with the incongruities, Crum.”

“You’re right,” Crum said, nodding and smiling, the brief exposure of hypnosis perking him right up.

He looked down at himself. “Uh, but I can put pants on before we leave, right?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Rita said with a smirk. “But I suppose so, if you feel you must.”

 

Much later that night, Rita, Crum, and Greta were packed in Crum’s car, parked a block away from the hotel were Cowell checked in.

“This is ridiculous,” Greta said, “he’s never gonna to show up. Not unless we call him. He’s too careful for that.”

“Oh, no?” Crum asked smugly, lifting a finger from its resting place on the wheel as Cowell walked across the hotel parking lot and into the reception area.

“Should we get out?” Greta asked.

“We’ll give a moment,” Rita answered.

Cowell came back out from the reception, then went up the stairs and into his room.

“Now,” Rita ordered. The three of them scrambled out of the car, following Rita’s lead up to the door.

“Shh, quiet,” Rita ordered them. She activated the suit, turning herself invisible, and walked stealthily up to the door. She knocked on it.

“Who’s there?” Cowell’s gruff voice barked.

Rita quickly moved away from the door.

“Identify yourself, or you will be shot by a licensed federal agent!” Cowell shouted.

The door swung open, and Cowell burst forth, gun raised and at the ready. He turned and noticed Greta and Crum, not hearing Rita as she went inside.

“Oh, it’s you,” Cowell said. “Why didn’t you just say so? Come in.”

Greta and Crum reluctantly followed him inside, not sure what Rita’s plan was.

“Must be admit, I’m surprised to see you two again so soon,” Cowell said. “I don’t suppose there’s been any kind of … development? It seems too soon for any changes, unless there’s been a major breakthrough ...”

“Er, something like that,” Crum said.

Greta felt Rita nudge her in the shoulder. Rita made the outline of her hand visible for a brief moment, pointing at Cowell’s gun.

“Agent Cowell,” Greta smiled and clapped her hands, doing her best to seem pleasant, “could I ask you to put the gun down? We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

Cowell raised his brow. “I’m a professional, ma’am. I know exactly what I’m doing. And you did show up uninvited ... “ Cowell’s thumb ran over the back of the gun.

Cowell regarded them suspiciously, then narrowed his eyes.

“A more paranoid agent might think you’re up to something, but good thing we all know that not to be the case, isn’t it?” Cowell said with that terrifying mixture of professional politeness and implied threats that older gentlemen seemed so skill at using.

Rita waved her arms in front of Cowell’s face, flashing hypnosis at him, appearing and disappearing as though she were the light of a firefly.

“Ha?” Cowell asked, his eyebrows knitting. His grip on his gun relaxed.

Rita tapped Greta on the shoulder to singal her.

“We’re all friends here, aren’t we, Agent Cowell?” Greta asked.

“Yes … friends,” Cowell said.

“Why don’t you put the gun down?” Greta suggested.

Cowell complied, placing the gun on the nightstand.

“Now!” Rita ordered!

“What?” Faster than the old coot could react, Greta and Crum seized him by the shoulders.

“If you’re really grabbing me, a federal, you two really don’t have any idea what you’re doing, do you?” Cowell asked. But before he shucked them off, he was distracted by Rita materializing before him.

“Rita?” Cowell asked. He looked Rita up and down. The camo suit seemed to accentuate her figure. “You … you got the suit working?”

“Oh, yes,” Rita answered breathily, “working beyond my wildest dreams!”

“Excellent,” Cowell said, not paying much attention when the suit turned to black with a blue spiral patterns swirling around. “And this has all been a test run for it, right?” Cowell asked. “Right?” His tone implied he would hurt Crum and Greta in ways that would be difficult to recover from if this were anything other than a test.

“A test?” Rita said. “Oh, yes, it has been a test.” She waved her arms around like a dancer, and Cowell’s neck rested.

“Huh?”

“Just perhaps not a test in the way you think, Cowell,” Rita said, continuing to dance seductively. “A hotel like this … a seedy hotel like this … it’d be the perfect place to lose some seed, wouldn’t it?”

“What are you getting at?” Cowell asked, not realizing he was falling deeper into the hypnosis. “This hotel isn’t seedy.”

“Oh, but you are, Cowell!”

“What?”

“Yes, you’re seedy - that is, you’re full of cum! And you are just so ready to cum, aren’t you, Cowell?”

“Seedy … full of cum, yes. Wait, what?”

“An old agent like you must get so lonely,” Rita said, growling sexily while gyrating her hips back and forth. “Wouldn’t be nice to get a little … release?”

“Release, yes …”

“Lose yourself into my spirals, dear,” Rita said. “Stare into the infinity of the pattern. Lose yourself in my skin. There’s no end to it, is there? Just like there’s no end to your love for me … or how much cum you’ll shoot for me.”

“Shoot … for you,”

“Yes,” Rita said, “you’re going to cum, and after you cum, you’re going to give me all of the grant money you can possibly get your hands on, so I can experiment without limit … and be in charge of my own project, the way it should have been all along.”

“Wait,” Greta said, “I thought you said Cowell wasn’t an agent, and that was why we needed to stop him?”

“Shut up, Greta,” Rita said. “Cum for your mistress. All of you. Now, damn it. I don’t have all night, I have _science_ to do! Chop chop!”

Rita clapped her hands.

Cowell, despite his training, was helpless. He, Crum, and Greta all dropped to their knees.

They moaned, wet spots appearing in their pants, Cowell’s bulge poking through his pants, either his cock or his semen - Rita wasn’t sure which - strong enough to tear through his pants, leaving his wet, cum-soaked tool hanging out while it dripped, dripped cum.

Rita could see the jealousy in Crum’s eyes. _Men_ , she thought, rolling her eyes. Always getting jealousy towards each about their own cock size, when in the end, they all existed … to serve her. To give her greater glory - her chameleon, too.

“That reminds me,” Rita thought absently. “Cowell, my servant?”

“Command me, mistress,” Cowell said.

“For my first grant - request - demand …” Rita said. “I’d like a year’s supply of chameleon feed, and a professional reptile handler.”

“Whatever you want, mistress …” Cowell said, panting as his cock spurted a little more. “It’s yours,”

“That’s right,” Rita said, turning on her heel and looking at her hand - her all powerful hand.

“ _Mine_.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> This was a hired piece with the instructions;  
> -4000 word minimum  
> -A camo suit with a hypno pattern, like the one used in Metal Gear 2.
> 
> I got a little concerned there wasn’t enough sex in the story, but that was, like, kinda by design? Like, I wanted to take the chance to flex my writing muscles and show people (and potential customers) that despite what my bibliography would have you believe, I am capable of writing more than just sex.
> 
> So I put in the work to establish characters, their motivations, their situation, and a clear arc as a meek beleaguered scientist discovers power and goes on a power trip, rebelling against the bosses who have questioned her.
> 
> Around 3/4ths of the way through writing this, I realized I could have not bothered with all that, and written something in 4000 words instead of more than twice that, if I had just used Metal Gear characters instead of coming up with OC’s. Ah well. Cie la vie, oui?


End file.
